Chicken Soup for the

What People Are Saying About
Chicken Soup for the Soul . . .

“After interviewing hundreds of rich and famous people, it is clear to me
that money and fame don’t automatically make people happy. It has to
come from within. I’d rather have a million smiles in my heart than a
million dollars in my pocket. Chicken Soup for the Soul will help you put a
million smiles in your heart.”

Robin Leach
TV personality and author

“Telling stories is one of the most powerful ways to teach values and
open doors to new possibilities. In this rich and varied collection, everyone
will find at least a few stories that strike a special resonance—stories one
will treasure and want to share.”

Nathaniel Branden
Author, The Power Of Self-Esteem

“This is a warm, wonderful, uplifting and inspiring book full of ideas and
insights that anyone can use to improve any part of his or her life. It should
be read, reflected upon and reread over and over.”

Brian Tracy
Author, The Psychology of Achievement

“This book is wisdom and solace for the ages. It is as contemporary as a
space walk and as timeless as a pyramid. The world needs storytellers to
help us make sense out of the confusion and chaos of these complex times.
Jack and Mark are consummate tellers and collectors of real-life stories.
What a gift: to teachers, to speechmakers, to anyone on his or her own
journey of growth and healing. It’s all here, and written with wit,
compassion and integrity.”

Sidney B. Simon
Professor Emeritus, University of Massachusetts,

and coauthor of Values Clarification, Forgiveness
and 14 other books

“I enjoyed every page. The stories are heart-rending and extremely
motivational, the poetry is beautiful and the quotes are highly profound and
meaningful. Jack and Mark have truly compiled a tremendous amount of
wisdom. Its contents provide great insight into all dimensions of life.

“This book would make a wonderful gift for others to share with their
loved ones, and you can rest assured that I will be purchasing additional
copies for my family and friends.”

Richard Loughlin
President, Century 21 Real Estate Corp.

“What a great book! Jack Canfield and Mark Victor Hansen have written
a book that has the same effect as my grandmother’s chicken soup did. . . .
It’s warm and it’s soothing. I plan on using it whenever I need a little love.”

Dawn Steel
Former President, Columbia Pictures

“Chicken Soup For The Soul is a powerful reminder that the main
ingredient in life is Love. It should be required reading for all.”

Wally Amos
Famous Amos Cookies

“What a wonderful gift you have given us with this collection of
inspirational stories! And what a wonderful gift it will be for my friends!
I’m convinced that Chicken Soup For The Soul should be on everyone’s
bedside table to read for 30 minutes at the end of the day to retain one’s
faith in human nature and the basic goodness in all people.

“The stories you have selected warm one’s heart and balance the news
that we hear through the media each day. Your book restores the soul and
gives one a positive sense of what life is really all about. Great job! I’m
sure it will be a tremendous success.”

Bob Reasoner
President, International Council for Self-Esteem

Author, Building Self-Esteem

CHICKEN SOUP
FOR THE SOUL®

101 Stories To
Open The Heart And
Rekindle The Spirit

Jack Canfield
and

Mark Victor Hansen

Health Communications, Inc.
Deerfield Beach, Florida
www.hcibooks.com
www.chickensoup.com

©1993 Jack Canfield and Mark Victor Hansen

eISBN-13: 978-0-7573-9755-4 (ebook) eISBN-10: 0-7573-9755-7 (ebook)

All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this publication may be
reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic,
mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher.

HCI, its Logos and Marks are trademarks of Health Communications, Inc.

Publisher: Health Communications, Inc.
3201 S.W. 15th Street
Deerfield Beach, FL 33442–8190

R-10-06

Cover design by Barbara Bergman

If there is light in the soul,

There will be beauty in the person.
If there is beauty in the person,
There will be harmony in the house.
If there is harmony in the house,
There will be order in the nation.
If there is order in the nation,
There will be peace in the world.

Chinese Proverb

With love we dedicate this book to our wives,
Georgia and Patty, and our children,

Christopher, Oran, Kyle, Elisabeth and Melanie,
who are chicken soup for our souls.

You are constantly opening our hearts and
rekindling our spirits. We love you very much!

Other Chicken Soup for the Soul ® Titles

Books
A 2nd Helping of Chicken Soup for the Soul®
A 3rd Serving of Chicken Soup for the Soul®
A 4th Course of Chicken Soup for the Soul®
A 5th Portion of Chicken Soup for the Soul®
Condensed Chicken Soup for the Soul®
A Cup of Chicken Soup for the Soul®
Chicken Soup for the Christian Soul
Chicken Soup for the Country Soul
Chicken Soup for the Couple’s Soul
Chicken Soup for the Mother’s Soul
Chicken Soup for the Pet Lover’s Soul
Chicken Soup for the Surviving Soul
Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul
Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul II
Chicken Soup for the Woman’s Soul
A Second Chicken Soup for the Woman’s Soul
Chicken Soup for the Soul® at Work
Chicken Soup for the Soul® Cookbook
Sopa de pollo para el alma (Spanish language version)

Audio Books
The Best of the Original Chicken Soup for the Soul® CD
The Best of A 2nd Helping of Chicken Soup for the Soul® CD
The Best of A 3rd Serving of Chicken Soup for the Soul® CD
The Best of A 4th Course of Chicken Soup for the Soul®
The Best of A 5th Portion of Chicken Soup for the Soul®
The Best of the Original Chicken Soup for the Soul® Audiotape
A 2nd Helping of Chicken Soup for the Soul® Abridged Version Audiotape
The Best of A 3rd Serving of Chicken Soup for the Soul® Audiotape

Chicken Soup for the Soul® Audio Gift Set (audiotapes)
Chicken Soup for the Christian Soul audiotape and CD
Chicken Soup for the Country Soul audiotape and CD
Chicken Soup for the Mother’s Soul audiotape and CD
Chicken Soup for the Pet Lover’s Soul audiotape and CD
Chicken Soup for the Surviving Soul audiotape and CD
Chicken Soup for the Woman’s Soul audiotape and CD
Chicken Soup for the Soul at Work audiotape and CD

Contents

Acknowledgments
Introduction
Share With Us

1. ON LOVE

Love: The One Creative Force Eric Butterworth
All I Remember Bobbie Probstein
Heart Song Patty Hansen
True Love Barry and Joyce Vissell
The Hugging Judge Jack Canfield and Mark V. Hansen
It Can’t Happen Here? Jack Canfield
Who You Are Makes A Difference Helice Bridges
One At A Time Jack Canfield and Mark V. Hansen
The Gift Bennet Cerf
A Brother Like That Dan Clark
On Courage Dan Millman
Big Ed Joe Batten
Love And The Cabbie Art Buchwald
A Simple Gesture John W. Schlatter
The Smile Hanoch McCarty
Amy Graham Mark V. Hansen
A Story For Valentine’s Day Jo Ann Larsen
Carpe Diem! Alan Cohen
I Know You, You’re Just Like Me! Stan Dale
Another Way Terry Dobson
The Gentlest Need Fred T. Wilhelms

Bopsy Jack Canfield and Mark V. Hansen
Puppies For Sale Dan Clark

2. LEARNING TO LOVE YOURSELF

The Golden Buddha Jack Canfield
Start With Yourself Anonymous
Nothing But The Truth! Dallas Morning News
Covering All The Bases Source Unknown
My Declaration Of Self-Esteem Virginia Satir
The Bag Lady Bobbie Probstein
Response/Ability Bernard Gunther
The Rules For Being Human Chérie Carter-Scott

3. ON PARENTING

Children Learn What They Live Dorothy L. Nolte
Why I Chose My Father To Be My Dad Bettie B. Youngs
The Animal School George H. Reavis
Touched Victor Nelson
I Love You, Son Victor B. Miller
What You Are Is As Important As What You Do Patricia Fripp
A Mom’s Life Delia Ephron
The Perfect American Family Michael Murphy
Just Say It! Gene Bedley
A Legacy Of Love Bobbie Gee
On Parenting Kahlil Gibran

4. ON LEARNING

Bilding Me A Fewchr Frank Trujillo
I Like Myself Now Everett Shostrum
All The Good Things Helen P. Mrosla
You Are A Marvel Pablo Casals

All I Ever Really Needed To Know I Learned In Kindergarten Robert
Fulghum

We Learn By Doing John Holt
The Hand Source Unknown
The Royal Knights Of Harlem Gloria Steinem
The Little Boy Helen E. Buckley
I Am A Teacher John W. Schlatter

5. LIVE YOUR DREAM

Make It Come True Dan Clark
I Think I Can! Michele Borba
Rest In Peace: The “I Can’t” Funeral Chick Moorman
The 333 Story Bob Proctor
There Are No Vans Anthony Robbins
Ask, Ask, Ask Jack Canfield and Mark V. Hansen
Did The Earth Move For You? Hanoch McCarty
Tommy’s Bumper Sticker Mark V. Hansen
If You Don’t Ask, You Don’t Get—But If You Do, You Do Rick Gelinas
Rick Little’s Quest Adapted from Peggy Mann
The Magic Of Believing Edward J. McGrath Jr.
Glenna’s Goal Book Glenna Salsbury
Another Check Mark On The List John Goddard
Look Out, Baby, I’m Your Love Man! Jack Canfield
Willing To Pay The Price John McCormack
Everybody Has A Dream Virginia Satir
Follow Your Dream Jack Canfield
The Box Florence Littauer
Encouragement Nido Qubein
Walt Jones Bob Moawad
Are You Strong Enough To Handle Critics? Theodore Roosevelt
Risking Patty Hansen

Try Something Different Price Pritchett
Service With A Smile Karl Albrecht and Ron Zenke

6. OVERCOMING OBSTACLES

Obstacles Viktor E. Frankl
Consider This Jack Canfield and Mark V. Hansen
John Corcoran—The Man Who Couldn’t Read Gary Smith
Don’t Be Afraid To Fail Wall Street Journal
Abraham Lincoln Didn’t Quit Source Unknown
Lesson From A Son Danielle Kennedy
Failure? No! Just Temporary Setbacks Dottie Walters
For Me To Be More Creative, I Am Waiting For . . .

David B. Campbell
Everybody Can Do Something Jack Canfield
Yes, You Can Jack Canfield and Mark V. Hansen
Run, Patti, Run Mark V. Hansen
The Power Of Determination Burt Dubin
The Power Of Optimism Alan Loy McGinnis
Faith Roy Campanella
She Saved 219 Lives Jack Canfield and Mark V. Hansen
Are You Going To Help Me? Mark V. Hansen
Just One More Time Hanoch McCarty
There Is Greatness All Around You—Use It Bob Richards

7. ECLECTIC WISDOM

You’ve Got Yourself A Deal Florence Littauer
Take A Moment To Really See Jeffrey Michael Thomas
If I Had My Life To Live Over Nadine Stair
Two Monks Irmgard Schloegl
Sachi Dan Millman
The Dolphin’s Gift Elizabeth Gawain

The Touch Of The Master’s Hand Myra B. Welch

More Chicken Soup?
Who Is Jack Canfield?
Who Is Mark Victor Hansen?
Contributors
Permissions

Acknowledgments

This book took almost two years from conception to completion. It was a
labor of love and took the combined efforts of many people. We especially
wish to acknowledge the following:

Patty Mitchell, who typed and retyped each of these stories at least five
times. Her commitment to this project included many weekdays until 10:00
P.M. and lots of weekends. Thank you, Patty! We couldn’t have done it
without you.

Kim Wiele, for the monumental typing and retyping of many of the
stories, handling much of the extensive research and coordinating all of the
seemingly endless work to secure copyright permission of the stories we
didn’t write ourselves. She did a terrific job. Thanks, Kim.

Kate Driesen, who assisted with the typing, read and commented on each
story and helped with much of the research. You were always there when
there were deadlines. Thank you.

Wanda Pate, who contributed endlessly in helping with typing and
research.

Cheryl Millikin, who kept the processing and flow of the material
working all along.

Lisa Williams, for taking care of Mark’s business so he could be
dedicated to this book.

Larry Price and Mark Powers, for keeping everything else going while
this book was being written.

To the hundreds of people who listened, read and commented on these
stories, poems and quotes.

To all of our friends at the National Speakers Association, who so
generously gave of their own material to complete this book. We especially
want to thank Dottie Walters for her continued encouragement and support.

To Frank Siccone, a dear friend, who contributed several of his stories
and quotes.

To Jeff Herman, for being such an inspired literary agent and for
believing in the book from the beginning. Jeff, we love working with you.

To Peter Vegso, Gary Seidler and Barbara Nichols at Health
Communications for catching the vision of the book long before anyone
else did. We appreciate your enthusiastic support.

To Cindy Spitzer, who wrote and edited several of the most important
stories in this book. Cindy, your contribution was invaluable.

To Marie Stilkind, our editor at Health Communications, for her timeless
efforts in bringing this book to its high state of excellence.

To Bob Proctor, who contributed several stories and anecdotes from his
voluminous file of teaching stories. Thank you, Bob. You’ve been a good
friend.

To Brandon Hall, who helped us with two stories.

We also want to thank the following people for giving us very valuable
feedback on the first draft: Ellen Angelis, Kim Angelis, Jacob Blass, Rick
Canfield, Dan Drubin, Kathy Fellows, Patty Hansen, Norman Howe, Ann
Husch, Tomas Nani, Dave Potter, Danielle Lee, Michele Martin, Georgia
Noble, Lee Potts, Linda Price, Martin Rutte, Lou Tartaglia, Dottie Walters,
Rebecca Weidekehr, Harold C. Wells.

Introduction

We know everything we need to know to end the needless
emotional suffering that many people currently experience. High
self-esteem and personal effectiveness are available to anyone
willing to take the time to pursue them.

It is difficult to translate the spirit of a live presentation into the written
word. Stories we tell every day have had to be rewritten five times to work
as well in print as they do live. When you are reading these stories, please
forget everything you ever learned in your speed-reading classes. Slow
down. Listen to the words in your heart as well as in your mind. Savor each
story. Let it touch you. Ask yourself, what does it awaken in me? What does
it suggest for my life? What feeling or action does it call forth from my
inner being? Let yourself have a personal relationship with each story.

Some stories will speak louder to you than others. Some will have deeper
meaning. Some will make you cry. Some will make you laugh. Some will
give you a warm feeling all over. Some may hit you right between the eyes.
There is no right reaction. There is only your reaction. Let it happen and let
it be.

Don’t hurry through this book. Take your time. Enjoy it. Savor it. Engage
it with your whole being. It represents thousands of hours of culling the
“best of the best” from our 40 years of combined experience.

One last thing: Reading a book like this is a little like sitting down to eat
a meal of all desserts. It may be a little too rich. It is a meal with no
vegetables, salad or bread. It is all essence with very little froth.

In our seminars and workshops we take more time to set up and discuss
the implications of each story. There are more explanations and
explorations of how to apply the lessons and principles to your everyday
life. Don’t just read these stories. Take the time to digest them and make
them your own.

If you find yourself moved to share a story with others, do it. When a
story makes you think of another person, call the person it brings to mind
and share it. Engage these stories and let them move you to do whatever
comes up for you. They are meant to inspire and motivate you.

For a lot of these stories we went back to the original source and asked
them to write it or tell it in their own words. Many of the stories will be in
their voice, not ours. We have attributed every story we could to the original
source. For all of those that are from fellow speakers and trainers, we have
included a contributors section in the back of the book where we have listed
their name, address and phone number so you can contact them yourself if
you wish.

We hope you will enjoy reading this book as much as we have enjoyed
writing it.

Share With Us

We would love to hear your reactions to the stories in this book. Please
let us know what your favorite stories were and how they affected you.

We also invite you to send us stories you would like to see published in
future editions of Chicken Soup For The Soul. You can send us either
stories you have written or stories written by others that you have liked.

Send submissions to:

Chicken Soup For The Soul
P.O. Box 30880

Santa Barbara, CA 93130
fax: 805-563-2945

You can also access e-mail or find a current list of planned books at the
Chicken Soup for the Soul site at www.chickensoup.com. Find out about our
Internet service at www.clubchickensoup.com.

We hope you enjoy reading this book as much as we enjoyed compiling,
editing and writing it.

1
ON LOVE

The day will come when, after harnessing space, the winds, the tides and

gravitation, we shall harness for God the energies of love. And on that
day, for the second time in the history of the world, we shall have
discovered fire.

Teilhard de Chardin

Love: The One Creative Force

Spread love everywhere you go: first of all in your own house.

Give love to your children, to your wife or husband, to a next
door neighbor. . . . Let no one ever come to you without leaving
better and happier. Be the living expression of God’s kindness;
kindness in your face, kindness in your eyes, kindness in your
smile, kindness in your warm greeting.

Mother Teresa

A college professor had his sociology class go into the Baltimore slums
to get case histories of 200 young boys. They were asked to write an
evaluation of each boy’s future. In every case the students wrote, “He hasn’t
got a chance.” Twenty-five years later another sociology professor came
across the earlier study. He had his students follow up on the project to see
what had happened to these boys. With the exception of 20 boys who had
moved away or died, the students learned that 176 of the remaining 180 had
achieved more than ordinary success as lawyers, doctors and businessmen.

The professor was astounded and decided to pursue the matter further.
Fortunately, all the men were in the area and he was able to ask each one,
“How do you account for your success?” In each case the reply came with
feeling, “There was a teacher.”

The teacher was still alive, so he sought her out and asked the old but still
alert lady what magic formula she had used to pull these boys out of the
slums into successful achievement.

The teacher’s eyes sparkled and her lips broke into a gentle smile. “It’s
really very simple,” she said. “I loved those boys.”

Eric Butterworth

All I Remember

When my father spoke to me, he always began the conversation with
“Have I told you yet today how much I adore you?” The expression of love
was reciprocated and, in his later years, as his life began to visibly ebb, we
grew even closer . . . if that were possible.

At 82 he was ready to die, and I was ready to let him go so that his
suffering would end. We laughed and cried and held hands and told each
other of our love and agreed that it was time. I said, “Dad, after you’ve
gone I want a sign from you that you’re fine.” He laughed at the absurdity
of that; Dad didn’t believe in reincarnation. I wasn’t positive I did either,
but I had had many experiences that convinced me I could get some signal
“from the other side.”

My father and I were so deeply connected I felt his heart attack in my
chest at the moment he died. Later I mourned that the hospital, in their
sterile wisdom, had not let me hold his hand as he had slipped away.

Day after day I prayed to hear from him, but nothing happened. Night
after night I asked for a dream before I fell asleep. And yet four long
months passed and I heard and felt nothing but grief at his loss. Mother had
died five years before of Alzheimer’s, and, though I had grown daughters of
my own, I felt like a lost child.

One day, while I was lying on a massage table in a dark quiet room
waiting for my appointment, a wave of longing for my father swept over
me. I began to wonder if I had been too demanding in asking for a sign
from him. I noticed that my mind was in a hyper-acute state. I experienced
an unfamiliar clarity in which I could have added long columns of figures in
my head. I checked to make sure I was awake and not dreaming, and I saw
that I was as far removed from a dreamy state as one could possibly be.
Each thought I had was like a drop of water disturbing a still pond, and I
marveled at the peacefulness of each passing moment. Then I thought, “I’ve
been trying to control the messages from the other side; I will stop that
now.”

Suddenly my mother’s face appeared—my mother, as she had been
before Alzheimer’s disease had stripped her of her mind, her humanity and
50 pounds. Her magnificent silver hair crowned her sweet face. She was so
real and so close I felt I could reach out and touch her. She looked as she
had a dozen years ago, before the wasting away had begun. I even smelled
the fragrance of Joy, her favorite perfume. She seemed to be waiting and
did not speak. I wondered how it could happen that I was thinking of my
father and my mother appeared, and I felt a little guilty that I had not asked
for her as well.

I said, “Oh, Mother, I’m so sorry that you had to suffer with that horrible
disease.”

She tipped her head slightly to one side, as though to acknowledge what I
had said about her suffering. Then she smiled—a beautiful smile—and said
very distinctly, “But all I remember is love.” And she disappeared.

I began to shiver in a room suddenly gone cold, and I knew in my bones
that the love we give and receive is all that matters and all that is
remembered. Suffering disappears; love remains.

Her words are the most important I have ever heard, and that moment is
forever engraved on my heart.

I have not yet seen or heard from my father, but I have no doubts that
someday, when I least expect it, he will appear and say, “Have I told you yet
today that I love you?”

Bobbie Probstein

Heart Song

Once upon a time there was a great man who married the woman of his
dreams. With their love, they created a little girl. She was a bright and
cheerful little girl and the great man loved her very much.

When she was very little, he would pick her up, hum a tune and dance
with her around the room, and he would tell her, “I love you, little girl.”

When the little girl was growing up, the great man would hug her and tell
her, “I love you, little girl.” The little girl would pout and say, “I’m not a
little girl anymore.” Then the man would laugh and say, “But to me, you’ll
always be my little girl.”

The little girl who-was-not-little-anymore left her home and went into the
world. As she learned more about herself, she learned more about the man.
She saw that he truly was great and strong, for now she recognized his
strengths. One of his strengths was his ability to express his love to his
family. It didn’t matter where she went in the world, the man would call her
and say, “I love you, little girl.”

The day came when the little girl who-was-not-little-anymore received a
phone call. The great man was damaged. He had had a stroke. He was
aphasic, they explained to the girl. He couldn’t talk anymore and they
weren’t sure that he could understand the words spoken to him. He could no
longer smile, laugh, walk, hug, dance or tell the little girl who-was-not-
little-anymore that he loved her.

And so she went to the side of the great man. When she walked into the
room and saw him, he looked small and not strong at all. He looked at her
and tried to speak, but he could not.

The little girl did the only thing she could do. She climbed up on the bed
next to the great man. Tears ran from both of their eyes and she drew her
arms around the useless shoulders of her father.

Her head on his chest, she thought of many things. She remembered the
wonderful times together and how she had always felt protected and

cherished by the great man. She felt grief for the loss she was to endure, the
words of love that had comforted her.

And then she heard from within the man, the beat of his heart. The heart
where the music and the words had always lived. The heart beat on, steadily
unconcerned about the damage to the rest of the body. And while she rested
there, the magic happened. She heard what she needed to hear.

His heart beat out the words that his mouth could no longer say. . . .

I love you
I love you
I love you
Little girl
Little girl
Little girl

And she was comforted.

Patty Hansen

True Love

Moses Mendelssohn, the grandfather of the well-known German
composer, was far from being handsome. Along with a rather short stature,
he had a grotesque hunchback.

One day he visited a merchant in Hamburg who had a lovely daughter
named Frumtje. Moses fell hopelessly in love with her. But Frumtje was
repulsed by his misshapen appearance.

When it came time for him to leave, Moses gathered his courage and
climbed the stairs to her room to take one last opportunity to speak with her.
She was a vision of heavenly beauty, but caused him deep sadness by her
refusal to look at him. After several attempts at conversation, Moses shyly
asked, “Do you believe marriages are made in heaven?”

“Yes,” she answered, still looking at the floor. “And do you?”

“Yes I do,” he replied. “You see, in heaven at the birth of each boy, the
Lord announces which girl he will marry. When I was born, my future bride
was pointed out to me. Then the Lord added, ‘But your wife will be
humpbacked.’

“Right then and there I called out, ‘Oh Lord, a humpbacked woman
would be a tragedy. Please, Lord, give me the hump and let her be
beautiful.’”

Then Frumtje looked up into his eyes and was stirred by some deep
memory. She reached out and gave Mendelssohn her hand and later became
his devoted wife.

Barry and Joyce Vissell

The Hugging Judge

Don’t bug me! Hug me!

Bumper Sticker

Lee Shapiro is a retired judge. He is also one of the most genuinely
loving people we know. At one point in his career, Lee realized that love is
the greatest power there is. As a result, Lee became a hugger. He began
offering everybody a hug. His colleagues dubbed him “the hugging judge”
(as opposed to the hanging judge, we suppose). The bumper sticker on his
car reads, “Don’t bug me! Hug me!”

About six years ago Lee created what he calls his Hugger Kit. On the
outside it reads “A heart for a hug.” The inside contains thirty little red
embroidered hearts with stickums on the back. Lee will take out his Hugger
Kit, go around to people and offer them a little red heart in exchange for a
hug.

Lee has become so well known for this that he is often invited to keynote
conferences and conventions, where he shares his message of unconditional
love. At a conference in San Francisco, the local news media challenged
him by saying, “It is easy to give out hugs here in the conference to people
who self-selected to be here. But this would never work in the real world.”

They challenged Lee to give away some hugs on the streets of San
Francisco. Followed by a television crew from the local news station, Lee
went out onto the street. First he approached a woman walking by. “Hi, I’m
Lee Shapiro, the hugging judge. I’m giving out these hearts in exchange for
a hug.” “Sure,” she replied. “Too easy,” challenged the local commentator.
Lee looked around. He saw a meter maid who was being given a hard time
by the owner of a BMW to whom she was giving a ticket. He marched up to
her, camera crew in tow, and said, “You look like you could use a hug. I’m
the hugging judge and I’m offering you one.” She accepted.

The television commentator threw down one final challenge. “Look, here
comes a bus. San Francisco bus drivers are the toughest, crabbiest, meanest

people in the whole town. Let’s see you get him to hug you.” Lee took the
challenge.

As the bus pulled up to the curb, Lee said, “Hi, I’m Lee Shapiro, the
hugging judge. This has got to be one of the most stressful jobs in the whole
world. I’m offering hugs to people today to lighten the load a little. Would
you like one?” The six-foot-two, 230-pound bus driver got out of his seat,
stepped down and said, “Why not?”

Lee hugged him, gave him a heart and waved good-bye as the bus pulled
out. The TV crew was speechless. Finally, the commentator said, “I have to
admit, I’m very impressed.”

One day Lee’s friend Nancy Johnston showed up on his doorstep. Nancy
is a professional clown and she was wearing her clown costume, makeup
and all. “Lee, grab a bunch of your Hugger Kits and let’s go out to the home
for the disabled.”

When they arrived at the home, they started giving out balloon hats,
hearts and hugs to the patients. Lee was uncomfortable. He had never
before hugged people who were terminally ill, severely retarded or
quadriplegic. It was definitely a stretch. But after a while it became easier,
with Nancy and Lee acquiring an entourage of doctors, nurses and orderlies
who followed them from ward to ward.

After several hours they entered the last ward. These were 34 of the
worst cases Lee had seen in his life. The feeling was so grim it took his
heart away. But out of their commitment to share their love and to make a
difference, Nancy and Lee started working their way around the room
followed by the entourage of medical staff, all of whom by now had hearts
on their collars and balloon hats on their heads.

Finally, Lee came to the last person, Leonard. Leonard was wearing a big
white bib which he was drooling on. Lee looked at Leonard dribbling onto
his bib and said, “Let’s go, Nancy. There’s no way we can get through to
this person.” Nancy replied, “C’mon, Lee. He’s a fellow human being, too,
isn’t he?” Then she placed a funny balloon hat on his head. Lee took one of
his little red hearts and placed it on Leonard’s bib. He took a deep breath,
leaned down and gave Leonard a hug.

All of a sudden Leonard began to squeal, “Eeeeehh! Eeeeeehh!” Some of
the other patients in the room began to clang things together. Lee turned to
the staff for some sort of explanation only to find that every doctor, nurse
and orderly was crying. Lee asked the head nurse, “What’s going on?”

Lee will never forget what she said: “This is the first time in 23 years
we’ve ever seen Leonard smile.”

How simple it is to make a difference in the lives of others.
Jack Canfield and Mark V. Hansen

©1984 United Feature Syndicate, Inc.
PEANUTS reprinted by permission of United Feature Syndicate, Inc.

It Can’t Happen Here?

We need 4 hugs a day for survival. We need 8 hugs a day for

maintenance. We need 12 hugs a day for growth.

Virginia Satir

We always teach people to hug each other in our workshops and
seminars. Most people respond by saying, “You could never hug people
where I work.” Are you sure?

Here is a letter from a graduate of one of our seminars.

Dear Jack,
I started out this day in rather a bleak mood. My friend

Rosalind stopped over and asked me if I was giving hugs today. I
just grumbled something but then I began to think about hugs and
everything during the week. I would look at the sheet you gave us
on How to Keep the Seminar Alive and I would cringe when I got
to the part about giving and getting hugs because I couldn’t
imagine giving hugs to the people at work.

Well, I decided to make it “hugs day” and I started giving hugs
to the customers who came to my counter. It was great to see how
people just brightened up. An MBA student jumped up on top of
the counter and did a dance. Some people actually came back and
asked for more. These two Xerox repair guys, who were kind of
just walking along not really talking to each other, were so
surprised, they just woke up and suddenly were talking and
laughing down the hall.

It feels like I hugged everybody in the Wharton Business
School, plus whatever was wrong with me this morning, which
included some physical pain, is all gone. I’m sorry that this letter
is so long but I’m just really excited. The neatest thing was, at one

point there were about 10 people all hugging each other out in
front of my counter. I couldn’t believe this was happening.

Love,
Pamela Rogers

P.S.: On the way home I hugged a policeman on 37th Street. He
said, “Wow! Policemen never get hugs. Are you sure you don’t
want to throw something at me?”

Another seminar graduate sent us the following piece on hugging:

Hugging Is

Hugging is healthy. It helps the immune system, cures
depression, reduces stress and induces sleep. It’s invigorating,
rejuvenating and has no unpleasant side effects. Hugging is
nothing less than a miracle drug.

Hugging is all natural. It is organic, naturally sweet, no
artificial ingredients, nonpolluting, environmentally friendly and
100 percent wholesome.

Hugging is the ideal gift. Great for any occasion, fun to give
and receive, shows you care, comes with its own wrapping and, of
course, fully returnable.

Hugging is practically perfect. No batteries to wear out,
inflation-proof, nonfattening, no monthly payments, theft-proof
and nontaxable.

Hugging is an underutilized resource with magical powers.
When we open our hearts and arms, we encourage others to do
the same.

Think of the people in your life. Are there any words you’d like
to say? Are there any hugs you want to share? Are you waiting
and hoping someone else will ask first? Please don’t wait!
Initiate!

Charles Faraone

Jack Canfield

Who You Are Makes A Difference

A teacher in New York decided to honor each of her seniors in high
school by telling them the difference they each made. Using a process
developed by Helice Bridges of Del Mar, California, she called each student
to the front of the class, one at a time. First she told them how the student
made a difference to her and the class. Then she presented each of them
with a blue ribbon imprinted with gold letters which read, “Who I Am
Makes a Difference.”

Afterwards the teacher decided to do a class project to see what kind of
impact recognition would have on a community. She gave each of the
students three more ribbons and instructed them to go out and spread this
acknowledgment ceremony. Then they were to follow up on the results, see
who honored whom and report back to the class in about a week.

One of the boys in the class went to a junior executive in a nearby
company and honored him for helping him with his career planning. He
gave him a blue ribbon and put it on his shirt. Then he gave him two extra
ribbons, and said, “We’re doing a class project on recognition, and we’d
like you to go out, find somebody to honor, give them a blue ribbon, then
give them the extra blue ribbon so they can acknowledge a third person to
keep this acknowledgment ceremony going. Then please report back to me
and tell me what happened.”

Later that day the junior executive went in to see his boss, who had been
noted, by the way, as being kind of a grouchy fellow. He sat his boss down
and he told him that he deeply admired him for being a creative genius. The
boss seemed very surprised. The junior executive asked him if he would
accept the gift of the blue ribbon and would he give him permission to put it
on him. His surprised boss said, “Well, sure.”

The junior executive took the blue ribbon and placed it right on his boss’s
jacket above his heart. As he gave him the last extra ribbon, he said,
“Would you do me a favor? Would you take this extra ribbon and pass it on
by honoring somebody else? The young boy who first gave me the ribbons

is doing a project in school and we want to keep this recognition ceremony
going and find out how it affects people.”

That night the boss came home to his 14-year-old son and sat him down.
He said, “The most incredible thing happened to me today. I was in my
office and one of the junior executives came in and told me he admired me
and gave me a blue ribbon for being a creative genius. Imagine. He thinks
I’m a creative genius. Then he put this blue ribbon that says ‘Who I Am
Makes A Difference’ on my jacket above my heart. He gave me an extra
ribbon and asked me to find somebody else to honor. As I was driving home
tonight, I started thinking about whom I would honor with this ribbon and I
thought about you. I want to honor you.

“My days are really hectic and when I come home I don’t pay a lot of
attention to you. Sometimes I scream at you for not getting good enough
grades in school and for your bedroom being a mess, but somehow tonight,
I just wanted to sit here and, well, just let you know that you do make a
difference to me. Besides your mother, you are the most important person in
my life. You’re a great kid and I love you!”

The startled boy started to sob and sob, and he couldn’t stop crying. His
whole body shook. He looked up at his father and said through his tears, “I
was planning on committing suicide tomorrow, Dad, because I didn’t think
you loved me. Now I don’t need to.”

Helice Bridges

Helice Bridges’ dream is to have a blue ribbon pinned on every person in America by the year
2000. To help make this dream come true, you can order “Who I Am Makes A Difference” blue
ribbons by calling 760-634-1851 or writing to HBC, P.O. Box 2115, Del Mar, California 92014.

One At A Time

A friend of ours was walking down a deserted Mexican beach at sunset.
As he walked along, he began to see another man in the distance. As he
grew nearer, he noticed that the local native kept leaning down, picking
something up and throwing it out into the water. Time and again he kept
hurling things out into the ocean.

As our friend approached even closer, he noticed that the man was
picking up starfish that had been washed up on the beach and, one at a time,
he was throwing them back into the water.

Our friend was puzzled. He approached the man and said, “Good
evening, friend. I was wondering what you are doing.”

“I’m throwing these starfish back into the ocean. You see, it’s low tide
right now and all of these starfish have been washed up onto the shore. If I
don’t throw them back into the sea, they’ll die up here from lack of
oxygen.”

“I understand,” my friend replied, “but there must be thousands of
starfish on this beach. You can’t possibly get to all of them. There are
simply too many. And don’t you realize this is probably happening on
hundreds of beaches all up and down this coast. Can’t you see that you
can’t possibly make a difference?”

The local native smiled, bent down and picked up yet another starfish,
and as he threw it back into the sea, he replied, “Made a difference to that
one!”

Jack Canfield and Mark V. Hansen

The Gift

Bennet Cerf relates this touching story about a bus that was bumping
along a back road in the South.

In one seat a wispy old man sat holding a bunch of fresh flowers. Across
the aisle was a young girl whose eyes came back again and again to the
man’s flowers. The time came for the old man to get off. Impulsively he
thrust the flowers into the girl’s lap. “I can see you love the flowers,” he
explained, “and I think my wife would like for you to have them. I’ll tell
her I gave them to you.” The girl accepted the flowers, then watched the old
man get off the bus and walk through the gate of a small cemetery.

A Brother Like That

A friend of mine named Paul received an automobile from his brother as
a Christmas present. On Christmas Eve when Paul came out of his office, a
street urchin was walking around the shiny new car, admiring it. “Is this
your car, Mister?” he asked.

Paul nodded. “My brother gave it to me for Christmas.” The boy was
astounded. “You mean your brother gave it to you and it didn’t cost you
nothing? Boy, I wish . . .” He hesitated.

Of course Paul knew what he was going to wish for. He was going to
wish he had a brother like that. But what the lad said jarred Paul all the way
down to his heels.

“I wish,” the boy went on, “that I could be a brother like that.”

Paul looked at the boy in astonishment, then impulsively he added,
“Would you like to take a ride in my automobile?”

“Oh yes, I’d love that.”

After a short ride, the boy turned and with his eyes aglow, said, “Mister,
would you mind driving in front of my house?”

Paul smiled a little. He thought he knew what the lad wanted. He wanted
to show his neighbors that he could ride home in a big automobile. But Paul
was wrong again. “Will you stop where those two steps are?” the boy asked.

He ran up the steps. Then in a little while Paul heard him coming back,
but he was not coming fast. He was carrying his little crippled brother. He
sat him down on the bottom step, then sort of squeezed up against him and
pointed to the car.

“There she is, Buddy, just like I told you upstairs. His brother gave it to
him for Christmas and it didn’t cost him a cent. And some day I’m gonna
give you one just like it . . . then you can see for yourself all the pretty
things in the Christmas windows that I’ve been trying to tell you about.”

Paul got out and lifted the lad to the front seat of his car. The shining-
eyed older brother climbed in beside him and the three of them began a

memorable holiday ride.

That Christmas Eve, Paul learned what Jesus meant when he said: “It is
more blessed to give . . .”

Dan Clark

On Courage

“So you think I’m courageous?” she asked.

“Yes, I do.”

“Perhaps I am. But that’s because I’ve had some inspiring teachers. I’ll
tell you about one of them. Many years ago, when I worked as a volunteer
at Stanford Hospital, I got to know a little girl named Liza who was
suffering from a rare and serious disease. Her only chance of recovery
appeared to be a blood transfusion from her five-year-old brother, who had
miraculously survived the same disease and had developed the antibodies
needed to combat the illness. The doctor explained the situation to her little
brother, and asked the boy if he would be willing to give his blood to his
sister. I saw him hesitate for only a moment before taking a deep breath and
saying, ‘Yes, I’ll do it if it will save Liza.’

“As the transfusion progressed, he lay in a bed next to his sister and
smiled, as we all did, seeing the color returning to her cheeks. Then his face
grew pale and his smile faded. He looked up at the doctor and asked with a
trembling voice, ‘Will I start to die right away?’

“Being young, the boy had misunderstood the doctor; he thought he was
going to have to give her all his blood.

“Yes, I’ve learned courage,” she added, “because I’ve had inspiring
teachers.”

Dan Millman

Big Ed

When I arrived in the city to present a seminar on Tough-Minded
Management, a small group of people took me to dinner to brief me on the
people I would talk to the next day.

The obvious leader of the group was Big Ed, a large burly man with a
deep rumbling voice. At dinner he informed me that he was a
troubleshooter for a huge international organization. His job was to go into
certain divisions or subsidiaries to terminate the employment of the
executive in charge.

“Joe,” he said, “I’m really looking forward to tomorrow because all of
the guys need to listen to a tough guy like you. They’re gonna find out that
my style is the right one.” He grinned and winked.

I smiled. I knew the next day was going to be different from what he was
anticipating.

The next day he sat impassively all through the seminar and left at the
end without saying anything to me.

Three years later I returned to that city to present another management
seminar to approximately the same group. Big Ed was there again. At about
ten o’clock he suddenly stood up and asked loudly, “Joe, can I say
something to these people?”

I grinned and said, “Sure. When anybody is as big as you are, Ed, he can
say anything he wants.”

Big Ed went on to say, “All of you guys know me and some of you know
what’s happened to me. I want to share it, however, with all of you. Joe, I
think you’ll appreciate it by the time I’ve finished.

“When I heard you suggest that each of us, in order to become really
tough-minded, needed to learn to tell those closest to us that we really loved
them, I thought it was a bunch of sentimental garbage. I wondered what in
the world that had to do with being tough. You had said toughness is like
leather, and hardness is like granite, that the tough mind is open, resilient,
disciplined and tenacious. But I couldn’t see what love had to do with it.

“That night, as I sat across the living room from my wife, your words
were still bugging me. What kind of courage would it take to tell my wife I
loved her? Couldn’t anybody do it? You had also said this should be in the
daylight and not in the bedroom. I found myself clearing my throat and
starting and then stopping. My wife looked up and asked me what I had
said, and I answered, ‘Oh nothing.’ Then suddenly, I got up, walked across
the room, nervously pushed her newspaper aside and said, ‘Alice, I love
you.’ For a minute she looked startled. Then the tears came to her eyes and
she said softly, ‘Ed, I love you, too, but this is the first time in 25 years
you’ve said it like that.’

“We talked a while about how love, if there’s enough of it, can dissolve
all kinds of tensions, and suddenly I decided on the spur of the moment to
call my oldest son in New York. We have never really communicated well.
When I got him on the phone, I blurted out, ‘Son, you’re liable to think I’m
drunk, but I’m not. I just thought I’d call you and tell you I love you.’

“There was a pause at his end and then I heard him say quietly, ‘Dad, I
guess I’ve known that, but it’s sure good to hear. I want you to know I love
you, too.’ We had a good chat and then I called my youngest son in San
Francisco. We had been closer. I told him the same thing and this, too, led
to a real fine talk like we’d never really had.

“As I lay in bed that night thinking, I realized that all the things you’d
talked about that day—real management nuts and bolts—took on extra
meaning, and I could get a handle on how to apply them if I really
understood and practiced tough-minded love.

“I began to read books on the subject. Sure enough, Joe, a lot of great
people had a lot to say, and I began to realize the enormous practicality of
applied love in my life, both at home and at work.

“As some of you guys here know, I really changed the way I work with
people. I began to listen more and to really hear. I learned what it was like
to try to get to know people’s strengths rather than dwelling on their
weaknesses. I began to discover the real pleasure of helping build their
confidence. Maybe the most important thing of all was that I really began to
understand that an excellent way to show love and respect for people was to
expect them to use their strengths to meet objectives we had worked out
together.

“Joe, this is my way of saying thanks. Incidentally, talk about practical!
I’m now executive vice-president of the company and they call me a pivotal
leader. Okay, you guys, now listen to this guy!”

Joe Batten

Love And The Cabbie

I was in New York the other day and rode with a friend in a taxi. When
we got out, my friend said to the driver, “Thank you for the ride. You did a
superb job of driving.”

The taxi driver was stunned for a second. Then he said, “Are you a wise
guy or something?”

“No, my dear man, and I’m not putting you on. I admire the way you
keep cool in heavy traffic.”

“Yeah,” the driver said and drove off.

“What was that all about?” I asked.

“I am trying to bring love back to New York,” he said. “I believe it’s the
only thing that can save the city.”

“How can one man save New York?”

“It’s not one man. I believe I have made that taxi driver’s day. Suppose
he has 20 fares. He’s going to be nice to those 20 fares because someone
was nice to him. Those fares in turn will be kinder to their employees or
shopkeepers or waiters or even their own families. Eventually the goodwill
could spread to at least 1,000 people. Now that isn’t bad, is it?”

“But you’re depending on that taxi driver to pass your goodwill to
others.”

“I’m not depending on it,” my friend said. “I’m aware that the system
isn’t foolproof so I might deal with ten different people today. If out of ten I
can make three happy, then eventually I can indirectly influence the
attitudes of 3,000 more.”

“It sounds good on paper,” I admitted, “but I’m not sure it works in
practice.”

“Nothing is lost if it doesn’t. It didn’t take any of my time to tell that man
he was doing a good job. He neither received a larger tip nor a smaller tip.
If it fell on deaf ears, so what? Tomorrow there will be another taxi driver I
can try to make happy.”

“You’re some kind of a nut,” I said.

“That shows how cynical you have become. I have made a study of this.
The thing that seems to be lacking, besides money of course, for our postal
employees, is that no one tells people who work for the post office what a
good job they’re doing.”

“But they’re not doing a good job.”

“They’re not doing a good job because they feel no one cares if they do
or not. Why shouldn’t someone say a kind word to them?”

We were walking past a structure in the process of being built and passed
five workmen eating their lunch. My friend stopped. “That’s a magnificent
job you men have done. It must be difficult and dangerous work.”

The workmen eyed my friend suspiciously.

“When will it be finished?”

“June,” a man grunted.

“Ah. That really is impressive. You must all be very proud.”

We walked away. I said to him, “I haven’t seen anyone like you since
Man of La Mancha.”

“When those men digest my words, they will feel better for it. Somehow
the city will benefit from their happiness.”

“But you can’t do this all alone!” I protested. “You’re just one man.”

“The most important thing is not to get discouraged. Making people in
the city become kind again is not an easy job, but if I can enlist other people
in my campaign . . .”

“You just winked at a very plain-looking woman,” I said.

“Yes, I know,” he replied. “And if she’s a schoolteacher, her class will be
in for a fantastic day.”

Art Buchwald

A Simple Gesture

Everybody can be great . . . because anybody can serve. You

don’t have to have a college degree to serve. You don’t have to
make your subject and verb agree to serve. You only need a heart
full of grace. A soul generated by love.

Martin Luther King, Jr.

Mark was walking home from school one day when he noticed the boy
ahead of him had tripped and dropped all of the books he was carrying,
along with two sweaters, a baseball bat, a glove and a small tape recorder.
Mark knelt down and helped the boy pick up the scattered articles. Since
they were going the same way, he helped to carry part of the burden. As
they walked Mark discovered the boy’s name was Bill, that he loved video
games, baseball and history, that he was having a lot of trouble with his
other subjects and that he had just broken up with his girlfriend.

They arrived at Bill’s home first and Mark was invited in for a Coke and
to watch some television. The afternoon passed pleasantly with a few
laughs and some shared small talk, then Mark went home. They continued
to see each other around school, had lunch together once or twice, then both
graduated from junior high school. They ended up in the same high school
where they had brief contacts over the years. Finally the long awaited senior
year came, and three weeks before graduation, Bill asked Mark if they
could talk.

Bill reminded him of the day years ago when they had first met. “Do you
ever wonder why I was carrying so many things home that day?” asked
Bill. “You see, I cleaned out my locker because I didn’t want to leave a
mess for anyone else. I had stored away some of my mother’s sleeping pills
and I was going home to commit suicide. But after we spent some time
together talking and laughing, I realized that if I had killed myself, I would
have missed that time and so many others that might follow. So you see,

Mark, when you picked up my books that day, you did a lot more. You
saved my life.”

John W. Schlatter

The Smile

Smile at each other, smile at your wife, smile at your husband,

smile at your children, smile at each other—it doesn’t matter who
it is—and that will help you to grow up in greater love for each
other.

Mother Teresa

Many Americans are familiar with The Little Prince, a wonderful book
by Antoine de Saint-Exupery. This is a whimsical and fabulous book and
works as a children’s story as well as a thought-provoking adult fable. Far
fewer are aware of Saint-Exupery’s other writings, novels and short stories.

Saint-Exupery was a fighter pilot who fought against the Nazis and was
killed in action. Before World War II, he fought in the Spanish Civil War
against the fascists. He wrote a fascinating story based on that experience
entitled The Smile (Le Sourire). It is this story which I’d like to share with
you now. It isn’t clear whether or not he meant this to be autobiographical
or fiction. I choose to believe it is the former.

He said that he was captured by the enemy and thrown into a jail cell. He
was sure that from the contemptuous looks and rough treatment he received
from his jailers he would be executed the next day. From here, I’ll tell the
story as I remember it in my own words.

“I was sure that I was to be killed. I became terribly nervous and
distraught. I fumbled in my pockets to see if there were any cigarettes
which had escaped their search. I found one and because of my shaking
hands, I could barely get it to my lips. But I had no matches, they had taken
those.

“I looked through the bars at my jailer. He did not make eye contact with
me. After all, one does not make eye contact with a thing, a corpse. I called
out to him ‘Have you got a light, por favor?’ He looked at me, shrugged
and came over to light my cigarette.

“As he came close and lit the match, his eyes inadvertently locked with
mine. At that moment, I smiled. I don’t know why I did that. Perhaps it was
nervousness, perhaps it was because, when you get very close, one to
another, it is very hard not to smile. In any case, I smiled. In that instant, it
was as though a spark jumped across the gap between our two hearts, our
two human souls. I know he didn’t want to, but my smile leaped through the
bars and generated a smile on his lips, too. He lit my cigarette but stayed
near, looking at me directly in the eyes and continuing to smile.

“I kept smiling at him, now aware of him as a person and not just a jailer.
And his looking at me seemed to have a new dimension, too. ‘Do you have
kids?’ he asked.

“‘Yes, here, here.’ I took out my wallet and nervously fumbled for the
pictures of my family. He, too, took out the pictures of his niños and began
to talk about his plans and hopes for them. My eyes filled with tears. I said
that I feared that I’d never see my family again, never have the chance to
see them grow up. Tears came to his eyes, too.

“Suddenly, without another word, he unlocked my cell and silently led
me out. Out of the jail, quietly and by back routes, out of the town. There, at
the edge of town, he released me. And without another word, he turned
back toward the town.

“My life was saved by a smile.”

Yes, the smile—the unaffected, unplanned, natural connection between
people. I tell this story in my work because I’d like people to consider that
underneath all the layers we construct to protect ourselves, our dignity, our
titles, our degrees, our status and our need to be seen in certain ways—
underneath all that, remains the authentic, essential self. I’m not afraid to
call it the soul. I really believe that if that part of you and that part of me
could recognize each other, we wouldn’t be enemies. We couldn’t have hate
or envy or fear. I sadly conclude that all those other layers, which we so
carefully construct through our lives, distance and insulate us from truly
contacting others. Saint-Exupery’s story speaks of that magic moment when
two souls recognize each other.

I’ve had just a few moments like that. Falling in love is one example.
And looking at a baby. Why do we smile when we see a baby? Perhaps it’s
because we see someone without all the defensive layers, someone whose